Sleepy Time By Your Side
by quisinart4
Summary: Future fluff inspired by the 2x05 "Can't sleep?" line. ONESHOT established Felicity/Oliver


**Title:** Sleepy Time By Your Side

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Author's Note:** First time dipping my toe into this fandom while being a fervent admirer of the works that are posted. I'm very nervous and hope I did this couple justice because I love them _so_ much and I don't wanna mess them up!

This is a future fluffy take on the "Can't sleep?" line that Oliver asks Sara at the beginning of 2x05. Inspired by the visual of Oliver Queen barefoot with tousled hair on the couch that I haven't been able to get out of my head _all_ week. Many thanks to **loved in shades of wrong** - without her encouragement I may not have felt confident enough to finish this! Feedback would be much appreciated, please & thank you.

* * *

"Can't sleep?"

He's lounging on the couch barefoot and feet up, but looks away from the TV immediately to the person he senses in the doorway. She's wearing his sweatshirt, and her tiny frame is lost in it. He smiles as he asks the question, sliding over on the couch to make room for her before he recognizes that he's even moved.

"No," Felicity sighs dramatically. "Your baby won't stop kicking me!"

Oliver chuckles, the low rumble of his voice echoing off the hardwood floors in the condo in the quiet of the night. He splays his hand across her stomach and sure enough, he feels his unborn child kicking steadily, wide awake even if it's almost one in the morning. "How come he's my baby when he won't let you sleep, but he's yours when he kicks as you read to him?"

"That's just so I'll know he has good taste and is already a Harry Potter fan, duh," Felicity replies back, the baby banter easy and familiar now that she's well into her second trimester. She snuggles closer into his side, nuzzling her face into his chest as he wraps an arm around her. "Why are you up?"

Oliver pauses before answering, his fingers running through her blonde hair even as his eyes are glued to the television screen. "Long day. Long night," he adds with a sigh.

Felicity pauses, understanding exactly what he's saying even if he doesn't say the words. "Oliver, you had to kill him. One second later and Digg would have been dead."

"I know," he tells her. "Rationally, I do. It's just..."

"I know," she whispers, her head tilting up to meet his eyes, her hands tightening around him as she pushes herself closer. "I get it."

He nods at her words even as he says a prayer of thanks that Felicity does not have the experience to completely understand how he feels, and hopefully she won't again. She had one mission go wrong many years ago, when she had to take a life for the safety of the team, but it's not a decision she has to struggle with like Oliver does daily when he's patrolling the streets. She's not as sheltered as he'd like, she can't be after years of working on their crusade for the greater good, but at least with the pregnancy, she's willingly staying out of the field for the baby's safety.

"Um, Oliver?" He makes a sound for her to continue. "This basketball game is from like, eight years ago."

"Yeah."

"Care to explain?"

"I... when I got back, Tommy told me he'd taped all the NCAA games every year from the Sweet Sixteen on for me. We'd watch them together on the weekends," he recalls fondly before his voice turns bitter. "Only managed to watch three years worth before it all went to shit."

"Oh, Oliver." Felicity sits up immediately, her hand grabbing his and squeezing tightly. Tears flood her eyes as she hears the loneliness and regret in Oliver's voice, sees the anguish on his face every time a memory of his friend comes up. The pain cannot be hidden when Tommy's name is uttered, even though the guilt has managed to fade.

"Then he found out about the Hood, and... the Glades fell..." _He died_ is what Oliver really means but that's not what he says, those aren't words Felicity dares to utter out loud. "I never did get around to watching the last games."

"Oliver..." Felicity doesn't hesitate any longer and swings her leg around to straddle his lap, arms wrapping around his neck and her lips descending to his. She kisses him deeply, fiercely, as if the contact should be enough to drain the emotional pain from his body, to draw it into her own so it won't hurt him any longer. Unfortunately, that's not the case so she breaks the kiss and stares down at him, her fingers gently brushing the scruff on his cheeks. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Me too," he says as he pulls her down to his chest, fingers trailing back through her hair. "He laughed his ass off when I asked him why he was giving me a CD and not a VCR tape." Felicity snorts in amusement and he smiles at the sound. "Hey, I didn't know DVDs were going to become such a big thing."

"I bet. What else surprised you?" She knows she's deliberately moving away from the heartbreaking memory of his friend and taking his attention away from the basketball game on the screen, but she'll chat about anything mundane to erase the sadness from his eyes. "A Starbucks on every corner? DVR? The Internet?"

"Hey, I'm not that old," Oliver says sternly, but his lips quirk up at her teasing. "Well, I did get a scare when I first got into the car and the GPS lady started talking."

Felicity laughs, head thrown back as she imagines the big, bad Starling City vigilante jumping at the sound of Siri's voice echoing over the sound system. "That's adorable."

"No, it's not," he mutters, shaking his head in denial.

"Yes, it is," she repeats, leaning in to kiss him again. "Poor Oliver."

He smiles at her even as his hands rub at her stomach, glancing down in awe as the baby's kicks seems to follow the trail of his fingertips. "He's really kicking."

"I told you. He's gonna be bouncing off the walls just like his dad," Felicity says, smiling to herself at the way Oliver's face lights up any time the word _dad_ is used. It's impossible to miss, and she uses the word to reassure him any chance she can. She's purely selfish when it comes to wanting to see the twinkle in his eye. "Oh god, what am I gonna do if he wants a little salmon ladder for his birthday?"

Oliver chuckles, his chest rumbling against hers as his eyes twinkle at her scenario. He's gotten much better at participating in her banter over the span of their relationship. At the beginning, he'd stare at her blankly, eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. Slowly though, he'd hesitantly say a few words, urging her on or calming her down, and more likely than not, teasing her further so he can see the color rise on her cheeks. Even Diggle's mentioned how his word count seems to have grown exponentially for every year he's been with Felicity. Felicity was more proud of him than offended when Oliver replied back that her condition was contagious.

"No, I'm serious, Oliver! He's going to want to do everything you do and before you know it, he'll want his own training sticks, and be a black belt in karate, and be beating up Roy and-"

"Felicity," Oliver interrupts with a grin, "don't worry, I won't let him on the salmon ladder until he's at least five." He stares at her innocently when she mock glares at him. "Okay, fine, six."

"Oh, haha, you think you're funny, don't you, Mr. Queen?" Felicity asks, noting the way his eyes darken like clockwork anytime she uses his formal title. Her hands tighten on his shoulders as her body brushes against his. "You won't be laughing when we have a girl, and it's time for her first date and I won't let you put an arrow through the cute guy who comes to the door asking for her."

"Nope," Oliver says immediately. "Not happening. You're not allowed to have a girl."

Felicity giggles at his familiar argument whenever the possibility of a little girl is mentioned. Thea and Digg love to tease him about the likely chance of the world giving the great former playboy Oliver Queen a daughter. "Just imagine her getting her first training bra, and her period, and her first kiss and-"

"Felicity," he says warningly, the tips of his ears turning red at her words and his face scrunching as if in pain at the scenarios she's painting. She's seen him more relaxed when he's facing the barrel of a shotgun, or even four guns at the same time.

She can't help but feel sorry for him and leans down to kiss him in apology, trying to contain her laughter. "Alright, okay, I'm sorry, I won't tease you about it. You've been through enough torture."

"Yes, I have," Oliver agrees, the words muffled against the ridge of her collarbone as he kisses the side of her neck. They've reached a point where it's okay to mention the past, for them to even lightly joke about it because it's something he's come to terms with, allowing the scars of the past to heal while the new joys of his life act as a comfort against the old memories. "I get enough of that from Digg and Thea and Roy."

"Poor baby," she mocks as her fingers tighten in his hair, her breath hitching at the feel of his scruff against the dip of her shoulder. She shivers even as she rocks into him, hands grasping on his shirt for leverage as she shifts restlessly in his lap. Her hormones are set on fire by the slightest touch these days and he knows it, taking her condition as a challenge to explore every inch of her body whenever he can. "Oliver?"

He makes a sound that's lost against the skin of her neck as his lips trail back to her mouth and she returns the kiss with urgency. "Upstairs. Upstairs now." When he delays following her command and continues to kiss her, she breaks the kiss to repeat her order, even if her voice comes out sounding more breathless than she'd like. "We have a perfectly huge bed upstairs, we are not doing this on the couch."

Of course he obeys her command by lifting her up in one swoop, grinning at the squeal she lets out when she finds her legs dangling above the ground before she wraps them around his waist. He heads for the stairs before she hits him on the chest. "Oliver! The TV. And the lights."

He groans at her reminder to turn off the television and lights, but dutifully grabs the remote from the coffee table and flicks off the screen with the press of a button.

"Yes, yes, I know you're a billionaire, woo hoo, but we still have to pay the electric bill, and do you have any idea how much energy is wasted by people leaving their lights on all night?" she questions. She doesn't pause for him to answer before she continues. "We are already in the midst of a global energy crisis and we should be doing our part to save the environment, and yes, I know I made you buy fluorescent light bulbs for this place, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't be held responsible for our bad habits, just because _someone_ had a fancy maid and a butler trailing after them all their life-"

"Felicity?" Oliver says, hitting the lights as he crosses the living room threshold to the stairs.

"Shut up?"

He doesn't answer; he just kisses her.

* * *

_the end ~_


End file.
